CCW Podcast

Have you ever looked around and wondered if God sees what's happening? When evil seems to win, when good people suffer, when injustice goes unanswered—it's easy to ask where He is in the middle of it all.

Paul writes to a church that knew that feeling well. They were being pressed on every side, and yet their faith wasn't shrinking. It was growing. Paul reminds them that God hasn't missed a thing. Justice is coming. Truth wins. And in the meantime, He's at work shaping a people who reflect His glory even under pressure.

This Sunday, we're in 2 Thessalonians 1, finding hope in a God who sees, knows, and acts.

If you've watched the news lately, it's not hard to feel like the world is unraveling. Wars, division, and uncertainty can leave even the steadiest among us a little unsettled. So how are we supposed to live in a moment like this?

Paul tells the Thessalonians the answer isn't fear, and it isn't denial. It's readiness. Not the anxious, white knuckled kind, but the steady, awake, hope filled kind that comes from knowing how the story ends.

This Sunday, we're walking through 1 Thessalonians 5 and asking what it looks like to live ready with our eyes open, hearts anchored, and full of hope, even when the world feels like midnight.

Holiness can feel like a heavy word. It conjures up images of rules, restrictions, and a list of things we're supposed to avoid. But that's not really what Paul is after when he writes to the Thessalonians.

He's talking about something deeper—a heart that's growing in love, a life that's quietly being shaped from the inside out. Holiness, in Paul's hands, isn't about performance. It's about becoming the kind of people who actually look like Jesus in how we love, how we live, and how we wait for Him.

This Sunday, we're in 1 Thessalonians 3 and 4, asking what holiness looks like in our everyday lives.

There's something powerful about a mother on her knees. Not the polished, put-together version of prayer—but the kind that's messy, honest, and laid bare before God.

Hannah knew that kind of prayer. She wasn't trying to sound impressive. She was hurting, and she brought all of it to the Lord—the ache, the longing, the questions. And somehow, in the middle of pouring her heart out, she found peace before her circumstances ever changed.

This Sunday, we're celebrating the moms in our church family and looking at what we can learn from a woman who simply wouldn't stop bringing her heart to God.

What makes a church actually feel like family? Not just on paper, not just on Sundays—but in the way people show up for each other when life gets heavy? Paul writes to the Thessalonians and you can hear it in every line. He's not delivering a lecture. He's pouring himself out for people he genuinely loves. He talks like a mom holding her kids close and a dad walking alongside them, urging them on. That kind of love doesn't happen by accident. This Sunday, we're sitting with 1 Thessalonians 2 and asking what it looks like to labor together with that kind of heart—bold, sincere, and tender all at once.

Ever known someone you'd pretty much written off? Someone so far from God, so hardened, that you quietly stopped praying for them because it felt like a lost cause?

Saul was that guy. He wasn't just uninterested in Jesus—he was trying to destroy anyone who followed Him. And yet, he's the one Jesus stops on a dusty road and flips upside down. Nobody saw that coming. Nobody except Jesus.

That's deeply hopeful. The person you've been praying for isn't beyond His reach. Neither are we, on the days we feel unusable. Join us this Sunday in Acts 9 for a story that reminds us no one is too far for Jesus to find.

The early church in Thessalonica shows us what a transformed life truly looks like. Their faith was rooted in Scripture and empowered by the Holy Spirit, producing real conversion. Even in adversity, they endured with joy, becoming examples to others. Their lives spoke loudly—they turned from idols, shared the gospel boldly, and lived with purpose. But what set them apart most was their expectation. They lived daily looking for Jesus to return. An expectant church isn’t passive—it’s active, faithful, and hopeful. As we await His coming, may we live the same way—ready, resilient, and reaching others.

In a world filled with uncertainty, 1 Thessalonians 4 gives us unshakable hope—Jesus is coming again. For those who have gone before us, there is a certain resurrection, not loss without hope. And for those who remain, there is a coming rapture—sudden, sovereign, and sure. One day, the trumpet will sound, and we will be caught up to meet the Lord. What a promise! We will be reunited with loved ones and forever with Christ. Until that day, we rest in His reassurance—comforted, confident, and expectant.

Isaiah 53 is often called the “5th Gospel” because it so clearly reveals Jesus long before His birth. It tells of a Savior who came humbly, rejected and despised, yet carrying the weight of our sin. Like sheep, we wandered—but He bore our stripes as our substitute. Through His suffering came our healing, and through His death came our salvation. But the story doesn’t end there—He rose, victorious and satisfied, sharing the spoils of redemption with us. Easter reminds us: what looked like defeat was actually the greatest victory ever won.

As Palm Sunday approached, when Jesus would enter Jerusalem for the final time before being arrested and crucified, He had an interesting encounter just after passing through Jericho. 

It’s a story you’ve heard over and over, most likely in the context of a children’s Bible lesson. And, it’s a great story for the kids. There’s a little guy, a big crowd, some tree climbing…. even a catchy song. But, when you peel back the layers, there’s so much more. 

Join us this Sunday as we look at the principle of Encountering Christ through the story of Zaccheus - the wee little man who climbed up in the sycamore tree.